


with your feet on the air and your head on the ground

by anxielin



Series: Send a Prayer to the Ones Up Above [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coercion, Dark, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Extremely Dubious Consent, Hallucifer, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt Sam, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Minor Injuries, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Post-Cage, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sam Hallucinates, Sam-Centric, minor Bloodplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 20:57:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13303065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anxielin/pseuds/anxielin
Summary: Late at night, a hallucination of Lucifer visits Sam, and he is unable to keep the Devil away forever. This takes place somewhere in S7, during the events of Hallucifer.





	with your feet on the air and your head on the ground

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: this fic contains extremely dubious/non consensual sex, mild bloodplay, and references to torture, past rape, and mind-fuckery from Sam's time in the Cage. Consent is technically given, but is coerced/a conditioned response. Please don't read if any of this bothers or triggers you!  
> This is un-beta'ed, so all mistakes are mine.  
> Title is from "Where Is My Mind" by the Pixies, which is a very fitting song for a lot of Season 6-7 Sam.

He sees Lucifer.  
He sees him constantly, always somewhere around him, talking and talking and every time he heard the Devil’s voice he shudders, because that was the voice that was with him in the Cage, the voice that taunted as his body was torn to shreds and smashed back together again, the voice that laughed whenever he created illusions of safety and family for Sam only to tear them away. The sight of Lucifer made him retch but it was his voice that had stayed with him when he could no longer see, when everything was darkness and pain and all he knew was the sound of his voice. It made him shudder and dig his nails into the wound on his hand until his fingers were bloody and Lucifer flickered out of his eyesight. But he always came back, always kept talking to him and dragging up memories of the Cage and the same small pain over and over could only banish the Devil so many times. And that was what had brought him to where he was now, curled up on the cheap motel mattress, cramming his hands over his ears and squeezing his eyes shut, trying to block out Lucifer. But all that meant was the angel started touching him instead, the one thing he could never block out. He raked his fingernails over his back and yanked on his hair and sank his teeth into his skin, and every bit of contact burned him but it didn’t drive the hallucination away. He pulled his hands off his ears and opened his eyes and clenched his jaw as hard as he could, because there Lucifer was, lounging on the bed next to him, grinning wickedly. Sam knew it wouldn’t do anything but he still slammed his nails into his palm until the cut was once again bleeding. Lucifer watched him, chuckling.

“What’s the matter, Sammy?” Lucifer reached out with one of his hands and ran his fingers through Sam’s hair, and Sam wanted to swat him away but knew it wouldn’t accomplish anything. All it would do was solidify how real Lucifer seemed, because he would hit cold flesh and his brain would scream that there was no way that was just a hallucination. He wanted to yell at Lucifer to go away, but he looked over to Dean, asleep across the room, and knew he couldn’t. So he sat perfectly still as Lucifer scooted closer to him until they were touching and Sam fought every instinct to move away. This was one battle he’d never win. The Cage had assured him of that. After all, none of this was real. None of this was happening. Lucifer wasn’t actually there.

“You know, I miss all our time together in Hell.” Lucifer’s hand left his hair and trailed down his face, caressing it, and cupped his cheek. He was gentle, which was rare for him, but it still made Sam flinch. No. No no nonono- “All the moments we shared,” Lucifer continued, and he lifted Sam’s chin. Then Lucifer was moving closer until he was half on top of him, and his weight felt so real that Sam wanted to throw up, but he couldn’t. All he could do was sit perfectly still, because any noise would wake Dean up and resisting would just make it last longer. Lucifer would hurt him either way. Lucifer would always get what he wanted.

“You said yes, Sammy. You’re _mine_.” Then Lucifer’s mouth was on his and Sam recoiled away from him. He could remember those lips- cold and dry and tasting like sulfur. Like death. “Nuh uh, Sammy boy,” Lucifer whispered. “Your body is mine. If you don’t let me have this,” he paused, brushing his hand down Sam’s side, making him shiver. “I’ll hurt you like you wouldn’t _believe_. I’ll make you scream, and then Dean will wake up, and then he’ll realize just how crazy you are. I’m not supposed to be here anymore, remember? At least, according to your brother.”  
Sam hated this. He hated it because Lucifer was right, because he wasn’t supposed to be here, because there was no way out of this, and for a moment it felt like he was back in the Cage and his muscles tensed. His eyes were starting to burn, but there was no way he’d cry. He would never give Lucifer the satisfaction.

Lucifer kissed him again, and this time Sam didn’t pull away. He parted his lips when Lucifer’s teeth teased at them, and let the Devil’s tongue enter his mouth, and it all felt so familiar that it ached. He wanted to scream or cry or do something, anything, to make it stop. But at the same time, there was a tiny piece of him that wanted this, that could remember every time Lucifer had done this in the Cage and missed it. It made his stomach curl in shame. But it was a hard piece to ignore, so he told himself it was just to avoid the pain of punishment when he uncurled his body, or let Lucifer slowly undress him, or allowed Lucifer to spread him out on the bed. It grew harder to ignore when Lucifer’s mouth left his and traveled down his body. He licked down his skin until he reached his nipple, nibbling and sucking on it until Sam quietly moaned and his dick twitched. Lucifer moved onto his other nipple until blood was rushing downward, and the shame squeezed harder.

“We both know you want this,” Lucifer murmured, mouth biting and sucking a hickey into his abdomen, running his tongue over the mark, taking his time until Sam squirmed.

“I don’t,” Sam insisted, pleading. “I don’t want this, please don’t, _please_ -” 

“Then what’s this?” Lucifer smirked, and then his tongue was circling the tip of his half-hard dick, the clear sign of his desire for the devil. Sam groaned at the pleasure that shot through, and both he and Lucifer froze when Dean stirred in his bed. Sam held his breath until it was clear his brother was still asleep, and then stuffed some of the blanket into his mouth. All he could think about was how he couldn’t wake Dean, couldn’t let him see him like this, couldn’t bear the disgust he would be met with if Dean were to be greeted with the sight of his younger brother spread naked on the bed. Then Lucifer’s lips finally wrapped around his cock and Sam clenched the sheets as hard as he could to keep his hips from bucking up at the sensation of his dick in the Devil’s mouth. Lucifer chuckled and the vibrations only made him harder. Then he got to work, taking Sam’s entire length into his mouth and God his tongue was sinful, making him moan and gasp into the blanket. His cock was fully hard and he was begging, for him to stop and keep going, words muffled by the cloth until it all blended together. A moment later Lucifer pulled off but it felt like hours, and maybe he was in Hell still because time had been like that down there. But he wasn’t. He was on the surface, and he was in a motel room with his brother and no one else. The fallen angel in front of him wasn’t real. He couldn’t be. But then how was Sam this aroused, if the Devil wasn’t actually there? How could any of this be happening? It didn’t feel like a dream; everything had a bit too much to it, was a bit too solid and deep to just be inside his head. But then what was this?

“Stop thinking so loudly,” Lucifer breathed. “I’m only giving you what you want.”

No. No he wasn’t. Sam didn’t want this. He didn’t want any of this. He wanted to say no, to shout it over and over until he could no longer see Lucifer, until these hallucinations left him the fuck alone. But his body was betraying him, and his mind had memories of Lucifer’s hands and mouth and dick that made him think otherwise. Dean had been right, so long ago. He really was a monster. No matter how much he said he didn’t want this, a part of him did, and both of them knew. He was disgusting.

“You’re not a monster,” Lucifer replied, nails dragging down Sam’s sides, hard enough to draw blood, and his dick throbbed. Even the pain was arousing, and it only made his stomach clench harder. “You’re my vessel. You were designed for me. You could never resist me, even if you wanted to. Which you clearly don’t want to.” To prove his point, Lucifer stood back up and pressed his body on top of his, the weight of his body crushing and familiar, so that his fingers could slip into Sam’s mouth. Sam sucked on them obediently, swirling his tongue and telling himself that he was only doing this because Lucifer would never use lube and it was either this or nothing. As he did, Lucifer gently maneuvered Sam's legs, folding them against his chest, before spreading them apart, exposing him to the Devil's gaze. Sam let him position him, knowing he would end up how Lucifer wanted him one way or the other. Then his fingers withdrew from his mouth and slid into his ass instead. Sam clenched around the cold fingers at first (it had been so long since the last time Lucifer had fucked him, long enough for his muscles to react but not long enough to forget all the times it had happened before), but he forced himself to relax. Lucifer stretched him, slowly adding fingers as he worked, and this was far gentler than Sam could ever remember him being. It was quieter, too- usually he would never shut up, but for once since this mess had started he wasn’t talking. Instead, he was lazily brushing his lips against Sam’s inner thighs, kissing and sucking in a way that would leave bruises. It was almost like he was trying to be nice, like he actually cared for Sam.

“Of course I care about you, Sammy,” Lucifer answered against his skin. “Why would you ever think otherwise?” His fingers found Sam’s prostrate and Sam keened, toes curling, gripping the sheets harder. Then his fingers were gone and Sam’s hips bucked desperately. “Not yet,” Lucifer whispered. His voice still made Sam shiver, but differently than before. “You have to ask for it.” He pulled the blanket out of his mouth and Sam squeezed his eyes shut, because laying there and taking it was different from asking for it and his humiliation was already burning at him. He didn’t want this, he hated every bit of this, but at the same time he craved it, craved what he had been missing since Death pulled his soul out. Every inch of him was already begging for it, so what difference would vocalizing it make? He glanced over at Dean, who was still sound asleep, and back at Luke’s face, full of Hell’s fire but none of its rage, not yet. But if he refused Lucifer, it would be. That was how it had always been. Obey or suffer. The instinct was still there.

“Please,” he whispered.

“Please what?” Lucifer grinned at him, exposing too many teeth, and in that moment they both knew he had already won.

“Please fuck me.”

Lucifer stuffed the blanket back into his mouth and grabbed both of Sam’s wrists with one hand, pinning them above Sam’s head in a restraining hold. Sam resisted to urge to fight against his grip, knowing it was pointless. The devil grinned at his easy submission, teeth flashing. Then he was lining up with Sam’s hole, making him shudder with anticipation, until he rocked his hips forward and plunged into him. He was rough, relentless, thrusting into him hard enough to draw muffled screams from Sam but it still felt so fucking good, and there was no resistance left in him, only want. He wanted this pain, this pleasure, this mouth biting into his skin and this fallen angel rutting into him without mercy. His cock was throbbing and he could feel himself getting close, so close, despite the part of him still silently screaming. Then Lucifer was coming inside of him with his teeth clamping down hard on Sam’s shoulder, hard enough to draw blood. He pulled out and released Sam’s wrists and Sam whimpered, because he was so close, he just needed a little bit more, just another few thrusts and he’d be there. Lucifer knew this too and he grinned again, the malice back in his eyes.

Sam yanked the blanket out of his mouth. “Please,” he breathed. “Please, please-”

“You said you didn’t want this,” Lucifer reminded him, licking the blood off Sam’s shoulder slowly, lazily.

“I do,” Sam insisted. “Please, I do, just-”

“Next time, say yes,” he said, voice low, and then he was gone.

Sam laid there for a moment, trembling, before the aching in between his legs became too much. He wrapped a hand around his cock and stroked himself until he found his release, ignoring the loathing in his gut when he came all over himself.

He cleaned himself up and found his shirt and pants, which Lucifer had tossed on the floor. Then he curled up in bed until the tears came, and cried quietly so Dean would stay asleep.

Slumber didn’t arrive that night, the crawling sensation of hands and lips and teeth on his skin keeping him awake.

Lucifer stayed away the entire time, but the blood on his shoulder remained.

**Author's Note:**

> Any kudos or comments, including constructive criticism, is much appreciated!


End file.
